


Anniversary

by Nicksname



Series: Earth-Nick [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 12:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18549643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicksname/pseuds/Nicksname
Summary: Batman's career at five different points in time, with ten year intervals. From his first night wearing the cowl to his time as Terry McGinnis' mentor.





	Anniversary

_Tuesday, March 30th, 1999_

His feet landed softly on gravel, barely making a sound. Bruce Wayne had spent many years learning how to get around unnoticed. From his time with the Shadows to the cold nights spent with a troupe of thieves in Dubai. All the years of close calls and silent victories. But tonight it was real. Tonight he had the suit. He had the symbol.

Bruce thought it was only fitting that he begin his mission where it had first started. All those years ago, in the darkness of Crime Alley. The night the boy had died and the mission had been born. It was only fitting that he begin here now, nearly eighteen years later.

Crime Alley got its name for a very specific reason, and Bruce didn’t have to wait long before trouble arose.

Through the lenses of his cowl, he saw a family, much like his own had been on that night so long ago, walking into the darkness. A father, a mother, and a boy, who couldn’t be older than ten. Perhaps they were tourists who had gotten lost or locals who thought they knew the city well enough to pick their shortcuts wisely. No matter their origins, they had made a grave error in coming here.

There were two men in the alley. One appeared to be homeless, shuddering under a thin blanket with a paper cup clutched in his hand. He held it out to the family as they passed by, begging for their charity. The family pretended not to hear the man and moved on, though at a faster pace. The man stood up and followed them for a few steps, calling after them. Perhaps the family felt sorry for the man, but their wariness carried them on.

They were right to be wary.

The second man appeared from the shadows of the alley, drawing a gun from his jacket and brandishing it at the family. The homeless man appeared behind them, drawing his own weapon and striking the father with the butt of his gun. The father collapsed, crying out in pain as he clutched the back of his head. The mother let out a shriek, pulling her son close to her as the second man pointed his gun in her face.

“Shut up!” he snarled at her. “I said shut up! Purse, jewelry, anything you’ve got. Now!”

Tears streaming down her face, the mother complied, keeping her right arm around her son as her left fiddled with her necklace. The first man was busy rifling through the father’s wallet, grabbing the cash and abandoning the rest. The father let out a groan and tried to stand, but the first man kicked him. The mother let out another scream.

“I said shut up!” the man brandishing the gun shouted.

He was getting nervous. Too much noise would attract unwanted attention; he needed to speed up the process. The man’s finger was on the trigger, the gun pointed right between the mother’s eyes as she fiddled with her pearl necklace.

The pearls. It was all so reminiscent of the night it had  changed, the night he had lost everything. Many hard days had followed, but he’d made a promise.. He would endure, so that others would be spared his pain. No other boy.

The son’s eyes were etched with fear, his face white with terror. He could see what was about to happen, and so could Bruce. Now was the time for action. To make good on his promise.

Now.

He pulled the ‘Batarang’ from his belt swiftly, unfolding it with his forefinger as his hand pulled back. His eyes locked onto the gun, ready to go off at any moment. He let it fly. The Batarang found its mark, knocking the gun out of the man’s hand.

The mugger gave a shout of surprise, turning first to look at the fallen gun and then to the source of the projectile. But Bruce was already gone, moving swiftly and silently to get behind him, as so many different teachers had taught him.

Bruce pulled his grapple gun out of its holster as he moved, preparing to fire it, aiming it with his left eye as he took his new position in the alley. He let the cable fly and it found its mark as well, wrapping around the legs of the confused mugger and pulling him into the darkness. Bruce moved to receive the man as he let the cable go, knocking him unconscious against the ground with one punch of his reinforced glove. The man never made a sound.

The same could not be said for his partner, who made several sounds of alarm before firing his weapon into the darkness where Bruce had been. But he was gone once more, moving to get above them all.

His feet found the side of the fire escape and his hands found the chinks in the wall. He moved up the wall as quickly and as silently as he had moved before, never betraying his location.

Now came the final part, the time to truly instill the fear. The fear that he had felt in that alley seventeen years, nine months, and four days before. He’d kept count, he always had.

Bruce let the line of his grapple catch on the side of the building, he’d chosen the tallest one, and plummeted towards the ground. His cape extended out behind him with his hands outstretched and waiting. Perhaps the mugger heard the rush of wind above him or the rustle of Bruce’s cape, but he never had time to look up.

Bruce grabbed him firmly with his gloved hands and retracted the line. They soared upwards, back to the roof, the mugger screaming all the way. The gun was lost below them.

The mugger landed in a heap, but Bruce found his footing easily. He grabbed the man again and began pulling him to the opposite edge of the roof.

“NO, PLEASE!” the man screamed, digging his nails into the concrete as he was dragged across the roof.

Bruce hoisted him up and held him out over the edge of the building. The man got a good look of his shadowed mask, and of the street far below him. Such a fall would surely kill him, but Bruce’s arms remained solid, his strength never wavering.

“Please…” said the mugger, defeated, his strength all but gone, “don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Bruce said in a gruff, unwavering tone. “I want you to do me a favor. I want you to tell all your friends about me. Tell 'em I’m coming for them.”

The man looked at him, terror in his eyes. The terror that Bruce had felt before in this very alley.

“...What are you?”

“I’m Batman.”


End file.
